


Best Love

by mooshkabunny



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, F/M, General Inquisitor none in particular, Just some musings, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22283839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooshkabunny/pseuds/mooshkabunny
Summary: Thom Rainier thinks about what the Inquisitor means to him.
Relationships: Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Inquisitor, Blackwall/Female Inquisitor
Kudos: 10





	Best Love

She wasn’t his first love. He was old enough that that would have felt unrealistic, perhaps sad. In truth, he probably fell in love with anyone he let even a little close, or even just had lain with in general. He was, above all else, a hopeless sucker, easily swayed by a kind smile and bedroom eyes. She was not his first love.

He wasn’t sure if he believed in soul mates either, or true love, whatever that might mean. Though he preferred to not entertain the notion that she could ever die, or ever leave (not now, not after everything they’d been through, not after she gave him the hope to fight for redemption), a lonely knowledge existed in him that were things to fall apart in a way that felt impossible to bear right now, he would survive, as always, and probably find love again (he was a sucker after all). He’d played the role of being a lone soldier, wearisome and alone for so long, but she and all of the Inquisition had called his bluff so easily. He needed people. He needed to pour all the affection he felt for life into others.

He’d never really recognized that in himself until her.

So yes, she wasn’t his first love, or his soul mate, or whatever a true love is. But where he was now. The Thom Rainier he was now, better, working every day to be better, and happy, in ways he did not ever dream would be his… She was his best love. She did not save him. She did not fix him. But she believed in him. She had faith in him. She tested him and laughed with him and smiled, he did not deserve that smile. But she thought he did. It never occurred to her that he might not deserve her love, her affection, her smiles.

Whatever this love was, it was warm and overwhelming, and profoundly safe. It let him grow. It let him live.

It let him, in the cozy, cold of the evening, turn towards her sleeping body, touch it, relish in its reality, and hold her, knowing that there were more and more tomorrows of much the same. The very best love, indeed.


End file.
